


To Love and Kiss

by keyboardclicks



Category: Maurice (1987), Maurice - E. M. Forster
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mindless Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9344981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyboardclicks/pseuds/keyboardclicks
Summary: "Alec was not merely a sensual, sexual being to be lusted over and taken to bed.  He was a man and a boy who loved equally to be kissed and cuddled and pet and, when he would allow it, coddled with every bit of affection I could muster."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Happier Year (Near About)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114666) by [Kimbeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimbeen/pseuds/Kimbeen). 



> Just a short bit of domestic fluff based off Kimbeen's fic "A Happier Year (Near About)". If you haven't read them this little oneshot will almost certainly confuse you but you can enjoy it either way. I highly recommend the previously mentioned fic and it's prequels in the "Caught 'twixt Love and Nausea" series!

As one would conclude from my frequent goings-on, Alec was appealing in every sense of the word. I found that I could pass time by simply staring at him, appreciating his fine form until he caught my gaze and turned it hotter without a word and we would nearly race each other to the bedroom, tripping over the legs of furniture and ourselves in an attempt to rush towards our lustful-wonderful!-pastime.  


It was not just this, however. Alec was not merely a sensual, sexual being to be lusted over and taken to bed. He was a man and a boy who loved equally to be kissed and cuddled and pet and, when he would allow it, coddled with every bit of affection I could muster. Once he came down with a terrible cold and, stubborn boy as he is, still insisted on going to work because we of course couldn’t afford the lack of money. I understood this, and did not argue, but every evening when we returned home I would lead him into bed, wrap him up in the most comfortable blankets we had access to, and make him rest up whilst I tended to his every whim. (And truly I revelled in it! To care for someone you love is a treat rather than a chore!)  


On one occasion I returned home from a shopping trip-nothing more than a quick outing for some essentials we had run dry of-to find my darling boy dozing atop the covers of our bed. His day clothes had been discarded messily on the floor in favor of my wooly brown jumper and a pair of pajama bottoms. Since the latter seemed appropriately sized, unlike the former, I could tell they were rightfully his. Head resting atop his arm, which in turn lay on the pillow, Alec’s body was curled up slightly in response to the chill of the air.  


I set the groceries down as quietly as I could and took the few steps it required to enter our bedroom. Alec didn’t stir even when I sat down on the edge of the bed, and it was no surprise to me with how tired he’d been when we’d met that night after work. He’d been distracted during the journey home and in fact had nearly fallen asleep over dinner. With a smile I reached over and pushed brown curls of hair from his sleeping face, repeating the loving action with the tips of my fingers and listening to his soft breathing. He was an absolute lamb in such a state, bundled up in his favorite jumper-of mine, I’ll remind you!-the picture of innocence and contentment. As sweet and happy as a child, I thought.  


After stroking his hair for several minutes, of course no longer to remove it from before his eyes but simply for an excuse to touch him, his eyes fluttered open and blinked, adjusting to the light of the sunset which filtered in through the window. Then his gaze caught me and a slow grin stretched over his face. His eyes were wide and dark, that mesmerizing deep brown I adored to the very depths of my heart. I was reminded of our encounter in the boathouse, him much in the same state of exhaustion, curled up on a makeshift bed of pillows and blankets, eyes again deep and inviting as he had spoken lowly and kissed sweetly.  


“Mm… guessin’ I dropped off?”  


“It would appear so,” I chuckled, still playing affectionately with his hair. “And I wasn’t even gone an hour.”  


My companion laughed sleepily and sat up, leaning against the headboard and reaching his arms out to me, inviting me to join him. I resisted, though, resisted that sweet, gap toothed smile and those inviting eyes and the surely warm and comfortable embrace which was being offered to me. Yes, I resisted all of this and smacked his leg playfully, rising.  


“Let me change, first; I can’t very well sleep in these. And look, you haven’t even gotten under the covers!”  


“Been waitin’ fer you.” He bounced a bit on the bed, still smiling, hands now on his knees as he watched me hurry into my pajamas. I watched him in return, seeing the fading light from the window play off his features. I saw him toss his hair again from his face then blow a lock away when it fell before his eyes. I saw him curl those perfect rosebud lips and absently chew on the already short nail of his thumb, every little mannerism so familiar and catalogued in my memory oh Alec! How I love you! How each of your actions, conscious and unconscious, has become so dear to me! How I could not live without having every bit of you, from each lock of hair atop your head to the twitching, stretching length of your toes!  


I realized for perhaps the thousandth time how wonderful love was! To have someone you love wholly and entirely so that every one of their actions is essential, that each of their features is something else to adore!  


“You’s givin’ me that look again,” he smiled. He had shuffled now beneath the blankets and gestured again for me to follow, which I did without even bothering to button my shirt. Alec laughed and kissed the top of my head as I joyously wriggled myself beneath the covers, draping over my love and laying my head upon his chest. Lacking height on me as he did, Alec’s toes brushed above my ankles and even that made me giggle with delight.  


“My darling boy,” I praised, “my sweet lad…” I nuzzled my face into his-my!-jumper, a hand traveling beneath it to stroke at his skin, delighting in the feeling of his soft, hairy belly. How ridiculous I must sound, recounting each small detail with such delight! But perhaps you understand, my dear imagined reader. Perhaps you yourself have someone you adore as much as I do my Alec, and so you know what a joy it is to delight in each small detail of their being. I hope you do; I hope that everyone should know this joy that we have found in one another.  


Affectionately he stroked my hair. “Lookit you! Worse than a cat, you is.”  


“You’re wearing my jumper, you little thief,” I countered.  


“‘S comfy,” he murmured. “Warm, too, even if it is a might big on me.” He raised one hand, revealing how the sleeve of the woolen jumper had to be pushed back to not hang over his fingertips.  


“Little thief,” I repeated. “At very least I know I shan’t find you wearing my trousers.”  


“Not unless I want another tumble down the stairs,” he laughed, and with a bubbling happiness in my chest I did the same.  


The light in the room had dimmed by this point that, had we been staying up, I would have perhaps lit a candle. But as it was we were very comfortable and had no intention at all to move. Alec’s clever fingers continued to move along my head in affectionate lines, playing tenderly with the short hairs at the base of my neck. This soothed me immensely and I was dozing off within minutes. My jumper was pushed up to Alec’s navel and I traced absent patterns on his skin as we drifted off together. In the morning Alec was delighted to discover that I had purchased his favorite type of jam on my run to the shops and, after taking a large bite of his toast, gifted me with a sweet, sticky kiss.


End file.
